Ed Sheeran, "Lego House"

When I think of Ed Sheeran, I think of Van Morrison. It's hard not to, the physical resemblences are hard to miss: both are red-headed Irish guys (Morrison was born in Ireland, Sheeran is English-born but of Irish descent), Ed looks like a young Van facially, and both are singer-songwriters. Superficial, yes, but pop music is nothing if not superficial at least on the surface (I feel like that last thought could have been culled from Yogi Berra).

The dude shot to fame with that song about the crack whore (yes, if you pay attention to the lyrics, it's a lovely tune about crack addiction), but I like his follow-up single "Lego House" better, especially the music video that combines the actual music video his record company made (starring Ron Weasley) and a fan-made video out of, well, Lego animation. It's kind of a trip.

It's one of those songs that gives you hope, in a landscape dominated by Train and Nicki Minaj and Taylor Swift (all artists who, while not necessarily terrible, are a little overplayed on the radio, as I'm sure Mr. Sheeran will be before I finish typing this sentence). It's a song that you can actually relate to, that isn't about partying all the time but about the fragile nature of interpersonal relationships. Because you know what? Those can break down at any time.

Facebook is both a blessing and a curse, in that you can share everything about yourself with total strangers but you can share everything about yourself with perfect strangers. I've seen it numerous times and been guilty of it myself, enough to feel like privacy is almost more of a choice than a right in the digital age. We live in a time where you are almost expected to divulge everything you're thinking or going through on social media, and while that can be healing it can also lead to places you don't want to go. You can vent about someone or something that "did" you "wrong," and you'll feel good for about five minutes until you realize that the other person or entity might see that, and you have to deal with the repercussions. That's why I've backed off talking so much about personal things on Facebook or other social media, unless I have the assurance of anonymity that is all too rare in the information age.

Suffice it to say, a friendship is broken, and in the past my efforts to fix it would've led to simply more hurt feelings and the all-too-common occurance of an absence in my life where once there was a presence that I might not have realized could be gone. Just because you're hurt doesn't give you the license to take it out on who hurt you, even if (like I said) it makes you feel better for about five minutes. The world can be a crazy, scary place, and if you're lucky you can have people in your life that will see you at your worst and still be ready to call you a friend. This has really gotten away from the song I was talking about, but that's how these things go sometimes; you start off in one direction then you go down a side street. I think that's what makes music so important to me and others like me, it helps bring you to places you might not otherwise go. As I've heard "Lego House" on the radio or seen the video on TV this past month, I've been more than happy to let it wash over me, clean out the areas of my brain polluted by my own self-doubts and recriminations over actions that hurt someone I care about and for which I am truly sorry.

So I'd like to think that, when I hear this song again (and it's beginning to get regular rotation, so it's a certainty), I'll feel that same sense of regret tinged with happiness for what once was and could have been. I don't know what the future holds, but I look towards it anyway. And Ed Sheeran, whatever else he does with his career (he might have the longetivity of a Van Morrison, or the brief flicker of so many other bright young songwriters before him), has left me with a song that I can listen for and to when life seems overwhelming, and that's a good thing.